To Follow a Life After

By Carolyn Anne McMahon

On one extraordinary day, two brothers set off searching for their missing father. Their innocent adventure unfolds into a journey of unfathomable mystery, love, deceit and horror that changes their lives forever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Apr 25, 2014
• ISBN: 9781496976123

Carolyn Anne McMahon

Carolyn McMahon is a wife, mother of two, daughter and seasoned police officer. She holds a Masters degree in policing intelligence and counter terrorism and is currently completing a bachelors in Psychology (clinical). Carolyn has spent a lot of her time learning and experiencing the intricate, unique and often multi faceted mind of people and culture and cultures and what leads people to extraordinary situations; or how they deal with extraordinary experiences. She believes: it matters not whether a story is fiction or non-fiction to the reader, as long as it connects on a special level. At a time when she found herself at the most challenged, Carolyn drew breath outside in a beautiful Australian setting in Capalaba Queensland. Here outside her window drinking in gum trees and breathing in fresh air, completely afresh of stress and akin to the beauty of nature the idea of the book was created and flowed from start to finish. She believes there are many stories in every living thing, just need the right imagination to make them interesting.

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© 2014 Carolyn Anne McMahon. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or

transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse   06/04/2014

ISBN: 978-1-4969-7611-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4969-7610-9 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4969-7612-3 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014907354

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained

in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views

expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the

views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

1. Loddy

2. Old Man’s Elbow

3. Darby Town

4. Stealing Time

5. A Night’s Drive

6. The Doctors Call

7. Brothers In Arms

8. Restless Souls

9. A New Journey

10. A Life After

11. A Track To The Truth

12. Grief As A Tribute

13. To Catch A Thief

14. A Game Of Lies

15. The Heart Of Mrs O’reilly

16. Gossip To Set The Story Straight

17. A Mission Of Loyalty

18. Reaping What Was Sewn

19. Laying It All On The Table

20. Psalm 23

For brave and beautiful Leonie:

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever: Its loveliness

increases; it will never pass into nothingness;

                                                      (Keats)

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Special thanks to Tony Berry (editor) and Author House for their efforts in the publication of this book.

INTRODUCTION

Follow the charismatic Ronan (14 years old) and his cheeky brother Jed (11 years old) as they set off on an adventure in search of their missing father. The two Aussie larakins will guide you through their journey with colourful characters in a typical country town and move you with their story of suspense, love, heartbrake and unending twists. Their innocence shattered, they are unwillingly drawn to follow a life after.

1. LODDY

‘Where do you think dad is?’ Jed Thompson asked his brother Ronan as he sat next to him on top of the farm gate. He winced as the silver metal bar bit into his bottom as he swung his legs against its chain wire body. Jed was 14 years old, the younger of the two boys. He was a thin, wiry frame wearing navy blue t-shirt and shorts with a cheeky grin that emphasized his square jaw and made his crystal blue eyes and ginger hair even more appealing.

‘I dunno, how long have we been waiting here?’. Ronan sighed. Ronan at 16 was a whole head taller than Jed. He had the same crystal blue eyes and square chin but was thicker set with jet-black hair. He placed his hands on top of the gate alongside where Jed sat and kicked at its bottom metal rail. He looked down at the front of himself over his dusty, cream t-shirt towards his bruised and scarred, bare legs that stretched out beneath his grey shorts. ‘It feels like two whole days we’ve been waiting here. It’s got to be way past lunch time now moaned Ronan.

It was 1973, a Monday to be exact. The early afternoon sun scorched down on the heads of the boys and their shoulders slumped. They both sighed unanimously. It was a day that made you feel lethargic. Moving to the country from the city had been two years of hard work. The boys remember having punished their parents for dragging them to a town where there was nothing to do and no neighbours their own age to hang out with. It wasn’t long before their parents Loddy and Charmaine Thompson had brought the boys every Atari and PAC man game available on the market to keep the boys sane before school started. Then school did start. It came as a great deal of surprise to the boys to learn there were actually good looking girls in Darby Town and the local boys loved to play sport, cricket and football mostly, and lots of it.

It had been three years since the move, but the boys had finally settled in and they were the most popular boys in school. The Thompson brothers took the little town by storm and very soon Ronan, the talented sportsman, and Jed the brainy mathematician, never spent their time moaning about being bored. Then their mother fell ill and died. It made two teenage boys immediately step up into the responsibilities of a man’s world. They were caring, hard working boys and the only time they whinged is when they had to wait once a week for their dad to come home with some food to re-stock the fridge.

In one week the fridge was so completely barren from the size of the boys’ appetites that even the boys would be embarrassed at its nakedness when friends dropped over. They would lovingly tease their dad as a ritual very week about the old man taking too long to feed his children and stalling when bringing home the shopping. Taking care of each other and their dad is what they did now. Their idol was their father Loddy Thompson. Loddy was renowned as the kindest man in the whole town of Darby. He had been a young, successful banker in Waverly for six years after graduating from University with honors in finance and economics, when he met his adoring wife Charmaine. Ronan was a young replica of his father (when Loddy had jet-black wavy hair before he went grey at fifty) and the same build. Ronan was muscular, slight in stature and fit. Jed on the other hand, was the colouring and build of his mother Charmaine, he was thin, wiry and short for his age.

Loddy was fifty-five. He had a dry wit compounded with a gentle chuckle and the same adoration for his boys that they held for him, even if he was a little overprotective at times. The last the boys knew of him Loddy had driven off early this Monday morning in his battered white utility with green canvass tarpaulin to go to the bank in Darby. Town Darby was at least an hour away by car. Today seemed just like any other day. The boys remembered Loddy saying he was going into town but like most teenage boys that live for the moment, this might have been mentioned during an elite game of Pacman or Atari; so retaining any further information than this went by the wayside. For the life of them, the boys could not even recall what they had been doing when Loddy mentioned he was leaving for town that morning. Ronan checked out the purple and yellow bruises with scratches down the side of his legs. Battle scars from football. ‘These bruises are the trophies of a real footballer’ he would tell admiring local teenage girls when they ran over after a match to hand him a towel, all wide eyed and giggly with nervous admiration. Jed whined, ‘How long does it take to get some food?!’. Ronan and Jed had been inseparable since their mother died twelve months ago, and whilst like normal teenagers, they fought competitively among themselves to outwit and outsmart each other in every way, the two of them remained the best of friends. Ronan looked down at his wrist to see that his sports watch was missing. He screwed up his mouth as he tried to gather his thoughts about where he might have left it that day. ‘Well, being the oldest and more intelligent I’ll make the decision here… . We’re going to go look for dad’. Ronan said quite matter of fact.Jed glanced sideways at his brother making such an arrogant statement and wobbled his head side to side like an impression of an Indian man who might be about to prophesize. ‘Ho hum—stick it up your bum’ was all Jed managed to say. Ronan scoffed ‘Shut-up idiot’ he retorted with a half smile. ‘No really! Stick it up your bum!’ replied Jed. ‘Well, you stay here and I’ll go looking’ Ronan shot back at him, ‘But dad’s never been gone this long before, usually he has called by now, it’s well past lunch time, he never misses lunch with us’. Jed jumped down off the farm gate and rubbed the cheeks of his backside ‘Ok glass half empty for you I see-maybe dad’s buying us a present? A surprise?! A horse maybe?!’. Ronan shook his head. ‘Why would dad buy a horse when he has a pet donkey already!, chortled Ronan as he gave his kid brother a little shove in the back. ‘I’m not a donkey’ Jed muttered before he resorted to pulling up his butt cheeks with his hands and pointing his backside towards his brother. He then stuck his tongue out and made a noise with his mouth that sounded rather like a gaseous emission from his backside. ‘Lovely’, smiled back Ronan ‘You’re a real charmer!’. Ronan took his foot off the bottom gate railing and put his hands in his pocket. Side by side the boys sauntered up the gravel driveway and past their white weatherboard farmhouse towards the shed.

It was a stifling hot morning. The middle of summer, no breeze, only dry heat that permeated down on their heads and although it was only mid morning, the boys were saturated in sweat. The waves of heat, almost invisible could be seen deflecting off the gravel road and distorting the stones in its rippling perimeter. Jed combed his hand through his ginger coloured hair from off his brow and walked imitating his brother with his hands in his pockets. He whistled a bar of music that was not familiar to either the boys and then muttered ‘Last one to the shed is a rotten egg’. He tore off around the corner towards the entry door of the shed. ‘The first one to the shed is a loser!’ sang back Ronan. Often he and Jed would race eachother to the shed, the gate, Loddy’s Ute, the house; a child hood challenge that had continued into their early teens. Ronan loved the challenge, although today he simply couldn’t be bothered running. Jed came screaming back around the corner running flat out. Our dirt bikes are gone!’. ‘What? Bull!’ exclaimed Ronan. He turned around the shed corner to see a cut padlock and chain sitting on the ground and the shed door hanging on one hinge. ‘They even killed the door the A-holes!’ Ronan exclaimed. Jed covered his mouth with two fingers and looked a little sheepish ‘Oh, no… that was me’, Jed muttered ‘The garage door was shut, I flung it open and it fell off the hinges—its old and all’ Jed said as he shrugged at his brother. ‘But they certainly stole the dirt bikes A-holes!’ Jed finished off defiantly in an atteempt to shift Ronan’s attention back to the matter at hand.

Ronan frowned as he looked inside the shed at the gardening tools stacked against the wall. In the middle of the shed where the bikes used to stand were just soft tyre marks in the dirt. ‘Oh Shit! They’ve been stolen!’ Ronan yelled as he pulled his dark wavy hair between both hands and rubbed his palms over his forehead ‘A-holes! A-holes!’ yelled Jed as he took hold of the side of the garage door that was still attached to the shed and lifted his leg high to kick its doorframe. Somehow his foot traveled right past the doorframe in a fresh-air kick and before he knew it he was on his back with his foot in the air. Jed lay in the dirt motionless, having felt the impact of the ground on his entire back. He held his leg with his foot up in the air, frozen in the position he landed in, just in case putting it down on the ground would cause pain. There were three short seconds of silence before both the boys collapsed into hysterics. Ronan slapped his thighs and thew his head back howling with laughter. Hearing the laughter Jed cracked a smile and together they laughed solidly for about a minute. Jed wound down with ‘Ah ah ahhhh, that hurt’ and then the boys collapsed into laughter again. ‘Are you alright?’ Ronan asked his brother finally. ‘Hmm, yeh I guess so’ Jed winced for sympathy as he sat up. Ronan reached out a hand and took a firm hold of Jed’s offered hand. Swiftly Ronan mustered up his strength and aided Jed up on to his feet. The boys looked about the shed and their faces dropped with disappointment. They had only brought the dirt bikes a couple of days ago. They were the new ‘big trend’ in growing up, freedom and extreme games. The boys had worked all summer and sold their mountain bikes to buy brand new blue and red dirt bikes. Ronan and Jed didn’t even know if they were insured yet. ‘There goes our transport into town’ Jed moaned. ‘Well I guess we’re walking ’caus dad took the car, surely we can flag down someone to give us a ride, maybe it will be dad coming back the other way’ Ronan decided. Jed rose to his feet and the boy’s saunted off down their blue gravel driveway and on to the unmade road. It had been a difficult twelve months after the death of their mum. Loddy devoted all his time to his boys and making their future secure. They all worked together on the farm and became the best of friends. There was never one school event or recreation the boys were involved in that Loddy would miss, not a single request for help from the boys would go unheard. The town had grown to respect Loddy Thompson, a quiet self-contained man with a dry wit, he was renowned by those who knew him as the strong, yet gentle, grey haired farmer and he adored his boys as much as they adored him. Loddy had met his wife Charmaine when he worked in Waverley as a banker. She had waltzed in one day to take out a personal loan and got more of the personal part than the loan. It’s true her credit rating wasn’t the best but Loddy knew he loved her from the moment he fixed eyes on her. Seventeen years of marriage later was the bankers guarantee. Loddy had grown up one of seven boys on a farm and he had always carried a passion for the land and hard work. He believed that real life and meaning was found in nature and the real rewards was the reaping in of grain and live stock not the reaping in of someone else’s financial dream. Loddy knew being the oldest of seven children that his grandfather’s farm would be left for him to manage when his grandfather Maxwell Thompson died. Loddy had always talked about leaving the banking business to retire on the farm. Charmaine thought he would grow out of this idea. When the time came and Maxwell Thompson died, Loddy was ready and willing to take on the challenge. It was the challenge of encouraging his family to share the same passion that Loddy did not anticipate.

Charmaine grew up an only child. She loved children especially her boys and adored her husband and their life in Waverly. She was gentle, ladylike and kind and kept the home safe and happy for her family. If there was a word in the dictionary for Charmain it was immaculate. She was always manicured and stylish with classic taste, a real uptown, classy woman. So when the time came when Loddy inherited the farm, the first year moving in and getting accustomed to the idea was hard for them all. The life style change was dramatic and there was plenty of hard work that none of them were accustomed to. There were plenty of fights between them all and many a night the boys slept outside—all three of them. Many a night Charmaine had cried and once or twice a dinner plate had whizzed past Loddy’s head. It was no secret that Charmaine adored her charmed life, but she also adored her sons and when the time came where she gave into the move, she let Loddy know loud and clear that she had sacrificed everything for the sake of her boys. Loddy and Charmaine never had the same relationship again. They appeared to love each other but the boys noticed that there was no passion in their eyes or that look of adoration. The mood had been swept away with the sea change and only a comfortable atmosphere remained. The boys were young and really didn’t understand the hearts of married couples’ relationships. They were content, however, to savor the thought that at least all the family was together, even if together was a million miles from the solidarity they had been used to.

‘We’ll bust dad’s chops, that’s what we’ll do’, the boys had agreed for the first twelve months of the move. ‘Then he’ll give in and we can move back to Waverley. This had been their way of thinking. The boys sat on the couch for days on end and would not speak or help out just to be spiteful. This little plan all ended very quickly when Loddy locked them in the cow shed and told them they were welcome back in the house when they decided they wanted to be part of the family again. After twelve months Charmaine seemed to settle into the lifestyle and she spent more time mixing in with locals. Loddy used to ask her ‘Are you settling in dear’ in the kindest most patient voice and she would smile and pat his hand and reply ‘It’s growing on me dear’. The boys had agreed that the second year of living on the farm felt more like Waverly days again. Just when life was going great, Charmaine fell ill. Every morning for two months almost consistently, she was heard vomiting—she complained that she was sick almost to the point of vomiting blood. One day Loddy found her lying dehydrated, weak and confused on the bathroom floor. He had carried her to the car and drove her to the local hospital in Darby. The local hospital is attached to doctor Thoresby’s office because the town is so small. Loddy came home late that evening and told the boys that doctor Thoresby had explained that Charmaine was dying from an inoperable blood clot in her lung. The news set on a gravitational pull of grief for them all. Doctor Thoresby requested the following morning that the boys come in with Loddy and say goodye to their mother. When the boys went to see Charmaine the next morning she looked week and exhausted. There were tubes coming in and out of her arms and she just